


Absolution

by malfaisant



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M, Mindfuck, Skrulls - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfaisant/pseuds/malfaisant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not Steve Rogers," said the man with Steve's eyes and Steve's nose and Steve's mouth. Blue eyes glinted as he pulled his cowl back, the sight of tousled blond hair so heartbreakingly familiar. "Remember, Tony? You killed Steve Rogers."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> for Kiran, who innocently mentioned that a version of that scene from Secret Invasion between Veranke and Tony would be _super_ interesting with skrull!Steve.

The armor felt stifling, turned to dead weight, and there was a metaphor there about taking the burden of this world on his shoulders, but Tony was neither maudlin nor sentimental enough to spell it out completely.

The point was, it was hot, the sun of the Savage Land beating down on the back of his neck. Tony could feel his hair stick to his forehead as sweat dripped down his brow and clung to his eyelashes. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes, and ran the back of his ungauntleted hand across his face.

The absence of the Extremis rang loud and hollow in his ears.

"Armor?"

**"STARKTECH ARMOR: COMPLETE SYSTEM FAILURE. VIRUS DETECTED, ALL SYSTEMS FAILING."**

Tony laughed, though it immediately devolved into a coughing fit. "Well, that's money well spent."

Despite the hundred-degree fever he was running, his skin felt clammy, his breathing shallow and stuttering. He took a sharp gulp of air, and it felt like water in his lungs.

The entirety of the planet's Starktech-based defenses was now in shambles. Who was even left? SHIELD? SWORD? The Avengers? Earth's superheroes were scattered, their strength divided. They had been crippled and infiltrated at the highest level.

There was no one who could help, no one he could trust but himself.

( _god, but it was all your fault, wasn't it?_ )

Okay, no, _focus_. Tony shook his head, and gripped the stylus in his hand even tighter. The cannibalised circuit board lay on the table in front of him, along with the disassembled parts of the helmet and one of his gauntlets. "Need to disconnect the bioware," he muttered to himself. "The virus is hitting me like pneumonia..."

Once he got the armor back online, he'd know what to do, how to fix this.

He just needed the armor back.

Where before Extremis would have given him a proximity alert, the only warning he received was a rustling to his left, quiet footsteps on the sun-cracked dirt.

Tony turned, the palm of his gauntleted hand raised outward on reflex, but he froze at the familiar sight of blue scalemail.

 _No_ , he couldn't hope, he couldn't afford it—

He stood there, eyes wide, arm outstretched, the motion of his hand having unconsciously turned into a reach.

( _but what if?_ )

"Steve?"

"I'm not Steve Rogers," said the man with Steve's eyes and Steve's nose and Steve's mouth. Blue eyes glinted as he pulled his cowl back, the sight of tousled blond hair so heartbreakingly familiar. "Remember, Tony? You killed Steve Rogers."

Tony's eyes widened, suddenly flinching back against the table as though he were struck by a physical blow. "N-no."

The creature laughed not unkindly (it was Steve's laugh) and stalked towards him, until he was just barely an arm's reach in front of Tony. Every detail was there, was the _same_ , and it raised Steve's right hand to gently run leather-clad fingers along Tony's jaw.

Tony wanted to back away from the touch, but couldn't make himself move.

It smiled at him, every inch of Steve's genuine smile. "You killed Steve Rogers."

( _of course it wasn't Steve. since when have you ever gotten anything you really wanted?_ )

"No!" Tony shouted at Steve (not Steve never Steve). "I didn't—"

"You killed Steve Rogers," the creature continued, "as part of your work on Earth."

"My work?"

The creature nodded, cupping Tony's face in one hand, his voice full of praise. "You killed their greatest champion, and then positioned yourself as the most important person of this world. You will go down in our people's history as the greatest soldier the armada has ever had."

Tony's blood turned to ice. "I'm—I'm not one of you! I'm not a Skrull!"

The creature's smile turned even warmer, and it seemed so wrong on that face, with that voice speaking those words. "Oh, but you are, Kl'Riki Dulu! The greatest deceiver the empire has ever known! You have the gratitude of our empire, our people, and our queen."

It pulled down Tony's still-outstretched hand and clasped it in his own, pressing it to Tony's chest, and moved closer until Steve's face was inches from Tony's. "And you have my love."

Tony felt lips press against his own, soft and insistent, with a gentleness that made him shudder feverishly. Fingers tangled in his sweat-drenched hair, and each second of it was unbearable torment, like sharp claws digging into his chest, into the cavity of his ribcage where his heart used to be.

Maybe, if he closed his eyes tightly enough, he could convince himself it was really Steve.

( _please, just for a second_ )

Tony turned his face away, breaking the kiss and shoving the creature from him. "I'm not a Skrull!"

Far from looking angry, Steve's face just smiled at him understandingly, and how many times has Tony seen that expression turned towards him, that mix of fondness and exasperation that was so uniquely Steve?

"My love, that is only what you think."

"Stop—"

"It was what you were trained to think."

"Just stop!"

"You've served selflessly. Sowing discord and division amongst the heroes of Earth, playing the role of traitor so deftly—"

Tony couldn't understand why he couldn't move. He would rather endure the pain of the virus coursing through his body a hundred times over than stand there a second more.

"As our queen said to you on the day you volunteered: it is with our greatest regret that the truth had to be hidden from you."

The creature's eyes were so blue, and just as painfully honest as Tony remembered. Tony turned his back to the creature, his hands tearing into his hair, staring down unseeing at the pieces of armor and circuitry in front of him.

Could it be...can he be really be...?

But no! Everything he did—everything he did was for the best! He didn't mean for any of _this_ to happen—

"I know this is hard, and that you remember nothing of your loyalty..."

—contingencies and calculations and trajectories and he had sacrificed so _much_ , had lost so much, none of this was _supposed_ to happen—

Tony shivered, suddenly cold in his broken armor. "S-stop," he said weakly.

"...but this is what you wanted. For yourself," spoke Steve's voice from behind him, and Tony could feel bile rise up his throat, tasting of regret and human frailty. "For the empire."

( _pretext-vindication-redemption-forgiveness-mercy_ )

Tony felt his eyes well up with tears, his hands gripping the edge of the table, chanting a soft prayer under his breath. "No— _nonono_ —"

( _the dissolution of your sins_ )

"I promised I would help you through this. We will rehabilitate you, find the way back to your true form. We will fix you, Tony."

The Skrull wrapped Steve's arms around him from behind, flushing Steve's chest against his back, pinning Tony's arms to his body with all of Steve's strength.

There was a word for what the Skrull offered, but Tony couldn't possibly—he can't—

_(Tony, wouldn't it be easier if he was telling the truth?)_

"Oh, my love." Steve's lips pressed to his ear, and spoke in a whisper. "You've done so well, brother."


End file.
